Loud and obnoxious. Thinks it's cool to be aggressive and snobbish but it's fucking annoying to the rest of us. Their so called "confidence" is as fake as Iggy Azalea's ass. They're the most boring people on the planet. They're the child you never wanted. Meeting or befriending an Aries means you're being punished for something.
They think the world revolves around their slow asses. Tauruses act like they do everything but all they really do is masturbate, cry and throw a tantrum when they have to get out of their beds. They expect everyone to do everything for them. If you want to win a Taurus' heart, (which I doubt you do) then just be rich. They probably have money hidden somewhere but they'll act like they're poor and homeless just so they can have your shit.
Geminis are very good actors. That's why they spew bullshit out of their mouths every 2 minutes and everyone buys it. They're not funny and tend to laugh at their own jokes while everyone just wants them to shut the fuck up. They feed off of bullying other people but act like they're for the people. Gemini's only talent is having everyone believe their lives while actually believing it themselves. They have no sense of right or wrong because they're still children who need to be put on a leash in order to prevent them from fucking up everything in their path. Do they even hear themselves talk? Probably not, because they suck at listening to anybody including themselves.
Cry me a fucking river. Cancers act like they don't give a shit but will try to plan your death if you don't notice their shitty haircut right away. They have no social life and their parents/guardian try to kick them out because all they are and ever will be is the loser living in their parent's/guardian's basement jerking off to The Notebook and thinking about their ex.
Their whole entire existence is a joke. They act like they have morals but will try their best to degrade people so they can feel superior. Why? Because they don't know who or what the fuck they are. They still have identity issues at 30. Arguing with a Leo is easy (and hilarious) because their egos are consistently being bruised by nothing, so you'll always win the fight. Leos can relate to cats because they're pussies.
They like to fight with everyone. Everything is everyone else's fault except for theirs. Virgos can't take the blame for anything because they think they're perfect (when they actually look like a mean sack of shit) and because they're prone to stomach aches and shitting their pants every time there's a little bump in the road. They hate being wrong (which they usually are) and will lie and murder their best friend just to try and prove a point. Because their ego comes before anything else.
Libras are so shallow, they won't think twice about talking to you if you're ugly. But take a good look at them and notice how boring their physical attributes are. They're just a plain jane walking piece of stale bread with two legs and a pulse. And they have as much depth as one too. All they do is try to charm people with the same lines they've used over and over again. They figure since they can't impress anyone with their looks they'll have to charm everyone with their fake personalities and horrible sense of humor. If you should even call that thing a personality.
Scorpios can see right through you -- HA. This is bullshit. All you are to Scorpio is a mirror. So everything they see in you that's "bad" is just themselves looking back at them. They only know you're lying because they have used every lie in the book and it takes one to know one. They're so shitty, they have done every horrible thing there is to do in life. So when someone reminds a Scorpio of themselves, they instantly don't like you. Because they know you're a piece of shit just like they are. This is why they're considered "mysterious". They judge people mainly by their looks (but use the word "aura" to throw people off) but if you look behind the sunglasses, millions of scarves and large hats they try to cover their faces with, you'll see they're not that special either.
Congratulations! You are the shittiest fucking sign. You should be proud of yourself. But I bet you are, because you'll do anything for attention whether it's good or bad. Sagittarius itself is a joke and everything they do is the punchline. They think they're smart and will stand up for something they don't agree with just for the sake of arguing and seeming smart when in actuality, they got their facts from wikipedia and other people that they eavesdropped on.
Calm down. You're not superior. In fact, judging by how quickly you get offended you're the exact opposite. Capricorns love to fight everyone if it gives them some extra points on looking tough. But honestly, they're not even tough. We all hated them ever since they walked into the room. They focus on work and school because they have no friends. They act like they have class which is a joke, considering they put on a tough front all day and then cry their cowardly hearts out at home.
Hahahahahahahahahaha. You're not even worthy of one. Go fuck yourself.
Pisces love to daydream and imagine the impossible, like getting off their lazy asses for once and actually doing something with their lives besides smoking pot and getting drunk. They're naturally psycho, because they can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality anymore. But they claim to know everything so if you tell them they're wrong they'll turn everyone against you. They're such pussies, they will probably grab a knife, scream, cry and kick shit if you look at them the wrong way. But don't worry, the knife is only so they can stab themselves repeatedly in their own face since they love to self destruct and then play the victim and put all the blame on everyone but themselves. Their own family hates them. So there's your first clue to avoid them at all costs. Seriously, the worst sign ever to exist.
I don't even know what this is, I just had a lot of feels mmkay.
What if in “Insatiable” the camera pans to a exhausted Stiles Stilinski
dreaming in his bed. Dreaming of a petite girl, with porcelain skin, green eyes, 5,‘3 , and flowing locks of a strawberry blonde hair.
And in this dream, she’s in a dark tunnel, running, screaming, crying. So he follows her, watching as she looks back at him with pure terror and fear in her eyes.
What if he calls to her, shouts, telling her that it’s all right, he’s not going to hurt her but he realizes, she’s not looking at him, she’s looking past him. And so he turns, and sees a figure that sends shivers down his spin and chills his bones. He sees himself.
What if he stares in awe as his skeleton like, shadow self walks towards the horrified girl, stalking her like she’s his prey.
And Stiles screams to the red head, telling her to run, run, get out of there, he’s coming. Quick.
What if Stiles’ eyes widen as he spots the long hallway meet an end and his heart stops as he sees himself, rounding the corner, closing the girl in.
And the girl spots him there, calling his name as she begs and pleads for him to help her, to save her. So Stiles runs, screaming that he’s coming! He will help her! But the hall way won’t end, no matter how fast he sprints, she’s still a 100 yards away.
And just then he sees himself, trotting towards her, eyeing her like she’s a piece of meat. And Stiles shouts, “don’t you dare touch her you bastard” but it’s too late, it’s over and as her fragile body slumps to the floor, she takes her last breathe, uttering his name.
What if Stiles awakens in his bed, screaming and kicking. Hitting him self repeatedly as he yells that this is his fault, he did this and he has to find her, he has to find his Lydia.
What if all at once it hits him and he realizes all that he’s done as the nogitsune and all the pain he’s caused, all the blood he’s shed, all the lives he’s took, all the loved ones he’s put in danger.
And what if a firm hand grips his shoulder, and Stiles screams and thrashes, looking for his escape. Until soft arms wrap around him as he realizes, it’s not a monster grabbing him, but Scott, coming to check up on him.
What if without thinking Stiles latches on to him. Desperately hugging his brother. And for the first time in a long time, Stiles, the Real Stiles smiles, a genuine smile. Because though this type of embrace is common for the two, after everything Stiles never thought he’d have the chance to hold his best friend, the last remnants of family he has left ever again.
And what if the search party is assembled and the group is called together, everyone having one common goal. Find her. Find Lydia.
What if as they’re searching Stiles can’t help but hear this strange faint sound. Almost like buzzing, almost like a whisper. Telling him where to go, what moves to make and where to find her.
But everyone else is too busy to listen. Allison is using her dad’s training to map out and track Lydia’s steps and Scott is too busy frantically smelling every nick and cranny for a vague sent. So Stiles sneaks off, because he is her emotional tether and she is his anchor. And he knows if anyone can save her, he should be the one to do it.
What if after stumbling around for what felt like hours, the voices getting louder and more frequent each step, he stops in his tracks. What if by some miraculous coincidence he sees her there. Crowding in a corner, as the nogitsune presses himself against her, drinking in her pain.
And what if just like in his dream, she calls out for him. But her eyes are closed, and his screams are drowned out by the maniacal laughter of the nogitsune. So he takes a bold move.
He steps towards it. And the nogitsune slowly turns, until Stiles is face to face with himself. His throat dries as he stares death in the eye. And looks over, at Lydia’s pale body, cowering in the corner, and rage fills him. And he fights, harder then he’s ever fought in his life. He punches and twists, kicks and stabs at the fox repeatedly, throwing caution to the wind.
And what if, some how, some way, Stiles becomes the victor and over powers the beast as his chaos rising self evaporates, into a cloud of smoke.
What if he stumbles over to Lydia, bloodied and barley breathing. What if she slowly opens her eyes and as soon as she sees him, all her pain melts away, only to be replaced with over joy and relief.
And Lydia smiles her beautiful smile because this was it, this was real, this was her Stiles, standing in front of her, coming to her rescue just like the many times before.
And her heart can beat again as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down and whispering “ I’ve missed you, so much.” While he mimics her motions, stroking her hair as he smiles at her familiar sent.
And then what if he’s falling, collapsing to the ground as his strength gives in and his knees buckle. And Lydia starts to panic as his eyes start to flicker close, his heart beat falling dangerously low.
And Lydia’s shakes him, yelling at him to stay awake as she searches his body for any cuts or markings.
But it’s not visible. It’s something deep down in his body that’s doing the damage. Something that’s causing his image to blur and his eye lids to grow heavy.
What if Lydia can feel it, she can feel the scream sneaking it’s way up her throat, she can feel it deep in her bones, as she watches as the life drain from his face. What if she represses it, refusing to let it end this way. Not now, not after everything they’ve been through.
So she moves in between his legs, scooping up his moist face in her hand. “Stiles, stay with me please. Don’t leave me, Stiles I need you.” She pleads as the tears start falling.
What if Stiles, sickly pale, on the verge of death Stiles, places a hand to her soft cheek, caressing it with his thumb and he chuckles. “I told you we had a some kind of connection.” Whipping away her tear. “Unspoken, right?” She adds forcing out a smile.
“The human and the banshee” he says, while choking on his words. “A perfect combination.” Lydia says, biting her lip.
And what if with that he smiles once more before going cold, his head dropping. And Lydia screams for him to wake up. Begging and commanding him to “get up now, right now damn it, Stiles wake up, say something.” As she smacks him forcefully.
But he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and Lydia tries to move him, tries to get him to his feet but each time she fails miserably, sending his length back to the ground with a echoing thump.
Lydia loses her self, her breath catching in her throat. She doesn’t know what to do, this is the first moment in her life where she has no answer, no sassy remark or tech book to help her solve her problem, to save the boy who’s grown so unbelievably close to her over the last months. She has no one. She has nothing.
What if she sits there, grasping on to his hand, pulling it close to her chest, hysterical as the same feeling comes crashing through her body. The weight hitting her like a thousand bricks.
“Scream.” The voice in her head says. His voice, the same voice that encouraged her the night of the formal, and again the day Barrow came to the school, in his room. The same voice that she’s grown to love so much. Stiles’ voice.
“Lydia. Scream.” He says once more. Lydia turns to face the still body in front of her. She places a kiss softly on the brim of his lips. Tangling his nimble digits with her own. And she let’s go. She obeys. She screams.
A scream, so piercing so powerful that it echoes through the walls, hitting everything in its path, leaving no corner untouched. She screams, until she can’t scream no more, until her throat aches for peace, until her body threatens it’s end.
What if she falls to his side, exhausted, broken, and beaten. “This is it” she thinks. “This is how we’re going to die”. so she closes her eyes, waiting for death to take them both.
What if then, soft finger tips graze her forehead and her eyes bat open to see Allison, Scott, Kira, Issac Sheriff Stilinski, Mama McCall, Argent and Derek all huddled over them. Allison cradles Lydia in her arms, as Issac and Scott carefully lift Stiles in theirs, gently escorting them outside.
“How did you find us!” Lydia cries, clutching to Scott’s wrists. “It’s a pack thing. How do members of the pack signal their location to the others.” Scott says, smiling softly. “They scream.” Allison finishes, while reaching for Lydia’s hand.
What if then, they take Stiles to Deaton, where he makes a full recover. The nogitsune is gone, happiness lingers through the air and the season finale is of the group, sharing silly stories of their child hood, eating ice cream and skipping off into the sunset, all hand in hand. The end.